


Legends of Badal'Shari: The End of all Stories

by Arcaniel



Series: The Legends of Badal'Shari [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Arabian Nights - Freeform, Complete, Forced Bonding, M/M, Quests, Romance, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 08:40:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcaniel/pseuds/Arcaniel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young scholar sets out on a journey to prove that not every story should be believed without question. But together with a savage prince, he ends up being pulled into an adventure more fantastic than any heroic tale out of legends...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Legends of Badal'Shari: The End of all Stories

**Author's Note:**

> Dear readers,  
> Good news: this story has been accepted by a publisher, therefore I have to take down the whole thing except for the first chapter. I'll add a link to the publisher's page later so you can find "The End of all Stories" as a real book there! I'm so excited!  
> Ps: I saved all of your kind comments, of course! Thank you so much for supporting me!

Chapter 1 – legends and lectures

 

"At the beginning of time, Shariha, the mother of heavens, was flying over the world covered by water. Ruler of all oceans was Mukar, father of the seas. He loved Shariha, but she did not notice him and continued to watch over her realm of stars. One day, Shariha lost a pearl from her necklace. Mukar collected the pearl, and when the mother of heavens asked him to give it back, he replied, 'I will return it to you if you love me.'

Hearing this, Shariha got angry and returned to the stars.

Mukar kept the pearl safe in the water, and after some time, life began to grow on it. Palms grew out of the sand, and mogi beasts grazed on the plains. And soon after, the first people came to the island and settled there. They called it Badal'Shari, the treasure of Shariha.

As Shariha realized what had become of her lost jewellery, she went to Mukar and said, 'You took good care of my pearl. But now that life is growing on it, I do not want it back at all. Badal'Shari shall continue to prosper.'

When he heard this, Mukar got angry, and the sweet water around the island became cold and salty. Storms raged, and big, dangerous beasts crawled onto the beaches.

But Shariha let the soft light of her stars fall upon Badal'Shari, and glowing sparks rained down. The people raised their hopes once again, knowing that Shariha had not left them. They prayed to her and did not fear Mukar's wrath.

Finally, the father of the seas admitted defeat. He said to Shariha, 'I will continue to keep your pearl safe, and I will stop torturing its people. I will give them sweet spring water to drink and plenty of fish to eat. You might still not love me, but I will submit to your decision.'

And Shariha smiled softly and said, 'You have finally proven yourself worthy, Mukar. May the people of Badal'Shari be our beloved children from now on.' And the people of the island henceforth called themselves 'mehan'shari', the children of Shariha.

And so it came to pass that the mother of the skies and the father of the seas celebrated their wedding, and since that day, starlight reflects on water to show their union.

After a year, Shariha gave birth to precious twin sons who were called Adir and Adan. Adir inherited all the power and the effervescent character of his father, but not his loving side. Adan inherited all of the gentleness and beauty of his mother, but not her strength. Only upon acting together, they were complete.

When the brothers discovered the pearl island, they decided to pass it by every day, riding on glowing orbs of light and flame.

'I will send the inhabitants heat and drought, fire and death,' Adir decided. 'So they will show true strength and courage upon looking at my merciless face in the sky.'

'And I will send them warmth and fertility, light and life,' Adan answered. 'So they will show true kindness and love upon looking at my gentle face in the sky.'

Shariha blessed her son's decisions and allowed them to watch over Badal'Shari in their own ways. And whenever the end is coming for one of the mehan'shari people, the mother of the heavens takes their soul and makes it a star to adorn her black dress from now on.

This is the story how the mother of the heavens, the father of the seas, and the brothers of the suns came to be the creators and guardians of the island of Badal'Shari. And it shall be like this until the end of time…"

~*~

Vael stopped his pen on the parchment and sighed in relief. Finally, he would get to start his real work. As he put the pen back into the little bottle of black ink, he once again pondered the habit of beginning each and every written work with the legend of the creation of Badal'Shari. Every mehan'shari child knew the legend by heart, and it was unnecessary to waste a full page of precious parchment each time.

But Vael wasn't in the position to protest. Starting with the legend was the second law of the Old Academy of Shir'Edrim. The first law was to obey one's seniors. And the third law… Vael sighed again, this time in annoyance. The third law commanded every student, scribe, or scholar at the Old Academy to write the truth, and nothing but the truth.

But how should that be even possible? The legend of the creation was considered the truth, although it was called a legend. And other things were clearly left unwritten although they had happened for sure.

Vael had never truly understood this. He had asked his mentor about this basic dilemma of a scholar studying history, but senior scholar Tarek had smiled and answered, "Young Vael, one day you will understand that there really is no history. There are only stories. And that there is no difference between a legend found on crumbling old parchment and the gossip told in the streets every morning by old women. Both are true, but both may also be inaccurate."

Those words might have held some incredible wisdom, but with Vael, young and impatient as he was, they fell on deaf ears. He had become a scholar to study and record the things that had really happened, and for him, there was a big difference between an ancient document and the everyday blubber of uneducated people.

And now, he was damned to copy those same old manuscripts for the younger students to read and leave stains on. Just because he had dared to tell his seniors that the five books of Galan's journeys were utter fantasy and dreamed up from first to last page - and therefore had no place in the history section of the library. How could they truly believe that the ancient hero Galan had slain a green seskra, a sand dragon, as big as a palace which had wings and could fly? Seskra were a big as a man, but no more, and as their name said, colored like the sand. And they had no wings. There were some of those fearsome beasts standing stuffed and long dead in the natural studies section of the Academy.

Vael sighed again and took up his pen to continue to write. He had to finish at least ten pages today, or he had to work during eightmoonday, the last day of the week which was reserved for recreation. Today was already sixmoonday, and he had been copying since last threemoonday. And worst of all, the documents he had to write weren't even interesting. It was the First Book On The Written Word, the basic lecture of all new students. Vael knew each and every letter by heart now.

The young scholar came as far as three pages before he got interrupted. The door to the little room he was working in suddenly opened with a creaking sound - at least he had gotten a room of his own and needn't endure the endless whispering of the younger students in the main scribe hall. Vael turned around in annoyance to tell the intruder off, but his face brightened immediately when he recognized his little sister.

Diyen had seen eleven rainy-seasons so far, a lot less than his own twenty. He had helped raising her when their mother and older sister had been busy with duties at the temple of Shariha, and Diyen was one of the few people that Vael adored unconditionally.

The little girl carefully closed the door behind her before she ran towards the outstretched arms of her brother. Vael got up from his seat and embraced her tightly.

"Mother of heavens, you have grown since I last saw you," he stated. "You'll be a young woman soon." There was a little sadness mixed in with pride as he said this. Diyen was really growing up, and it was more obvious to him since he was seeing her just every three of four weeks. Soon, she would trade the loose pants and long shirt of a child for the long skirts, midriff-baring top and veil of a young woman.

Until five rainy-seasons ago, they had all been living together at the great temple of Shariha. Vael, Diyen, their 17-rainy-seasons-old sister Jainia, and their mother Amira, one of the priestesses of the temple. But the priesthood of Shariha was all-female, and a priestess' male children had to leave when they became of age at fifteen. Jainia and Diyen didn't need to leave their mother, of course. They were bound to become priestesses as well, unless they decided to marry and live a normal woman's life. But both had expressed their clear wish to follow their mother's example at an early age. The priestesses of Shariha were highly revered, and enjoyed much more freedom than a normal woman: they didn't obey a father or a husband, and their children were their own, conceived during the Stargazing Festival.

This was also the reason why Vael, Jainia and Diyen didn't share the same father. Or, at least, Vael thought so. Their mother was sworn to remain silent – for a good reason. The children of a priestess, although privileged, should never be able to claim the name of their father's clan and thus starting an inheritance conflict.

Diyen giggled and interrupted Vael's thoughts. "Thank you," she said, smiling. "I'm even taller now than the other girls my age at the temple. And I'm ahead in studying, as well. That's why I was allowed to visit you today." Her sweet face grew serious again. "You haven't visited us last week like you promised!"

"I'm sorry. My mentor gave me some nasty copying tasks, and I've been cooped up in this dusty room ever since. But I'll visit you next week on eightmoonday, I promise."

This was cheering up the little girl a bit, and she nodded vigorously. "Mother and Jainia miss you, too. It's really unfair that you can't live with us any more."

"Those are the rules, my little water lily." Vael used the nickname he had given her when she had been only two days old. Back then, her hair had been a blond so bright it had been nearly white, reminding him of the floating flowers. Now, it had darkened to the exact shade of shimmering brass that his own hair sported. "We all have to obey them, don't forget that." He realized that he was reassuring himself as much as his little sister.

"I know." Diyen sighed dramatically. "But it's also unfair that you have to do boring stuff here at the Academy. You came here because you always wanted to record all the amazing things that had happened in the past, but no one ever knew of, right?"

"That's still my dream. But I have the lowest rank of scholar, and therefore I have to do some boring work as well. But don't worry. It's not as bad here as I make it sound." Vael smiled at Diyen, ruffling her already tousled mop of hair. "Please don't worry about me."

The girl tried to smooth her bangs, but failed, and Vael didn't attempt to help her. It was alright for a girl her age to look a bit unkempt. She'd be serious and immaculately styled like her mother and sister soon enough.

"Alright, I'm don't worry. But you'll be coming next eightmoonday, or I won't talk to you until next Light Festival!" she threatened, making her serious face, before she embraced him again.

But Vael wasn't about to break that promise.

~*~

"Junior scholar Vael, I'm sorry, but we can't give you a free day," master scholar Draman said, stroking his long, white beard. Vael had been working on the copies without a pause ever since Diyen had visited him, and he had completed the task on the following Fourthmoonday.

Now he stared at the master scholar in disbelief. "But I've worked last eightmoonday as well," he protested. "Everything that senior scholar Tarek told me to do is finished! I wanted to visit my family at the Shariha temple!"

Draman raised his hand to silence him. "No shouting," he admonished. "You are always too impatient and won't let your elders finish their talking. You should remember to talk less and listen more."

"'Think less', you mean," Vael scoffed before he could stop himself. "Revered master, I don't want to be disrespectful, but there's so much that's not making any sense to me. I really do try to obey, but…"

"No, you don't try," the master scholar interrupted him. "Your mentor, senior scholar Tarek, has told me a lot about you, young man. In all the five years that you have been studying at the Old Academy, you have constantly been going against the centuries-old traditions. You question everything and everyone, and you don't accept the explanations given to you. This has to stop."

"But master…"

"Silence! For once, just once, you will listen!" the usually mellow old man barked at him, fixating him with sharp dark eyes. The long beard bristled. "Asking questions is not a bad thing. This place is about satisfying a young person's curiosity. But since you can't accept the answers we're giving you, the Old Academy isn't the right place for you. We won't give you a free day, because you will leave the academy grounds before sevenmoonday. This decision is final."

Vael still couldn't believe what he was hearing. They threw him out, just like this? Not because he was stupid or wasn't making any progress, but for having his own head?

It was unbelievable. But it was also the truth.

Master scholar Draman regarded him carefully. "All of a sudden, you are silent. No further protests?"

The young man shook his head. "No, revered master. If that is your final decision, I won't disgrace myself by begging you to stay. I will pack my things and leave this evening. I don't want to stay for a moment longer than necessary." His voice was clear and devoid of emotion, although anger, despair, and confusion were waging a war for domination inside him. He bowed formally. "Please give my mentor my regards and thank him in my name for all the things he taught me."

Then he turned around and left the master scholar's office.

To be continued...


End file.
